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Saturday, December 15, 2012

[RPG][WOD] Blood on Fire- Trav

Trav Parker is the last member of Blood on Fire to change. He's fresh and raw, still learning about The People and his place in the world. Luna demands an incredible sacrifice from him, and Trav is learning how to accept it. He's the member of the pack I wrote first, and his change is what forged this pack- literally with blood and fire.

While he's Trey's younger brother, it's Hilary that he looks up to now that he has his legs under him. She tirelessly answers every question, while holding the pack to unyielding standards. Trav's respect for her command and dedication is unparalleled, and Trav would do anything Hilary asked of him to prove his loyalty.

There's a lot of terminology in this one, but I hope you understand him even through the jargon.

It all started with the motherf&*$ing ’ sky. It’s just so
pretty, see? And who doesn’t want to touch it, or explore it, or just know MORE
about it? I know that for as long as I can remember, it’s all I cared about.

I mean, I got Trey and Mama, of course. And sure, they’re
important. But I don’t live and breathe for ‘em like I do the sky. Everything I
ever did was to get to the sky. Early morning runs, workouts till I puked, endless
math drills, joining ROTC – all of it was for that dream that was on my tongue,
in my ears and in my heart every day.

I did ROTC in college and then IFS and became an SNA. They sent me to API in
Pensacola. I did all right there, and then they sent me to Primary Flight
Training at NAS in Corpus Christi. From there, I went to Tailhook at NAS
Kingsville, TX.

I’m a good southern boy, and all these stations being near
Georgia made it easy for my family to come to see me. Somehow, being away so
much brought me and my brother closer. We really grew to like each other, and
we’d talk for hours about what life would be like when I got out. We had plans, y’know. Trey’s a typical older brother, and wanted the
very best for me – he was always pushing me hard to kill it so I could make
something of myself.

We decided to go in on a little prop plane, and I was
teaching Trey to fly. He was pretty good, but he had to work at it. I was
patient, and kept teaching. It gave us something to share, y’know, and that was
pretty important. We kept it back home, so I wouldn’t be tempted to do some
dumb sh&t – cause as much as I planned every little detail of how to get to
be a pilot, I love the sky. I just can’t resist flying.

The training and practice flights were everything I thought
they’d be- hard, grueling, challenging; and exciting. I was a natural behind
the stick, and I could taste my life right in my mouth every time I flipped on
the jets of my bird- things were good.

And then. Something was twisting; turning- changing. I
couldn’t put my finger on it, but I was ansty all the time. I just couldn’t
stand anything; everything was crowding me. I kept having the strangest bouts
of nausea- I could literally taste my girl’s fuel and the horrible chemicals in
it. Everything around me made me mad; and I just wanted to get away. I felt a terrible homesickness I’d never felt
before, and I knew that I had to be back near my family- or something terrible
was going to happen.

I decided to go home, to the quiet of Georgia. I got a
weekend pass, and grabbed my little prop and flew to a buddy’s farm. I put her
in the barn for a while, and decided to take a walk, a nap- anything to settle
my mind. I was just overwhelmed from all the stress of flight school- I’d be
all right once I got my head on right.

I fell into a terrifying and fitful sleep. I dreamt of voices
speaking a language that called to me, but I didn’t understand. I felt things
like teeth tearing at my skin; but it wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real- it was
a dream, right? I was running, and hiding. I was invisible, unseen by anyone
around me. But I could smell them and taste their terror. I knew their
weaknesses and breathed on their cold, fear soaked bodies.

I woke as the night was crowning, the sky empty and bleak. I
had a sticky wet spot on my thigh, the pants ripped, but nothing but scratches
on my leg. I must have torn at myself in my sleep- it’s the only explanation, I
think. I saw the stars as I’d never seen them before, and I felt an incredible
sense of longing, and for just the quickest of moments, I felt a connection to
Trey - stronger than anything I’d ever felt before. Hilary, Trey’s “one that
got away”, lingered in my head , touching and melding with my very core for a
searing second. It was gone in a flash, and then that empty face above was
looking down at me again. The sky was lonely; missing something that belonged.
An unstoppable urge rushed over me and I was in my plane before I knew it,
flipping switches and running down the dirt road, waiting to soar.

An unfiled flight plan is bad enough, but one in the dark,
in the country, with no one around- it’s suicide. I started to feel the terror
of my choice, just as I was in the wind, like the hair of an unseen woman above
me. I felt a desperate need to get back, to flee, to hide. That’s when the
hallucinations started- those voices calling to me, in that garbled language. I
heard the air moving around me and my plane, loud and uncaring; I felt the
vibrations of the plane like thunder about to rip my bones from the inside out.
The lights on the dash seared into my eyes, like lasers seeking a target. And
the fuel- that disgusting, sickening taste was back in my mouth. It was all
flooding me at once, in waves and waves of restless and unending sensations-
and the sky was lonely. I could feel my one true love calling me, and all I
wanted to do was run away and hide.

I grabbed the controls, and my touch was violent and
spasming. I couldn’t hold onto the grip, or I forced it too hard, or both; I
don’t know. I was suddenly spinning out of control. I could see every twist,
every turn, every rotation. I could feel every thrust, my body rocking and wild
in the seat. I tried to grab control, to reach out and get my plane back in the
sky- but I could see the ground coming too fast and too hard.

I smashed into the top of a forest, the treetops twisting
the plane, flipping it like a child’s toy. I bounced and jerked and thrashed,
something wrong with every muscle in my body- I was breaking from the inside
out, and I hadn’t even crashed yet. My plane got hung up in a huge tree, as old
as the forest itself, and I hung nose down. Every system was broken and
blaring, and I could hear trickling, and smell something awful.

It only took a moment. A flash – a spark- something caught
the fuel, and the loose electronics which were smoldering and whisping lit up.
The fire raged, and so did I. As the fire consumed the plane, whatever was
ripping me up from the very depths of my bones exploded, and I felt torn and
stretched, but I was locked into my seat by the straps. Twisting and turning in
my seat, I saw myself become something inhuman- something deeper and more in
tune with the world around me. I watched myself burn alive. I smelled my own
body, which was covered in some kind of protective fur, be fried and scorched
beyond recognition; my senses screaming from the agony of every moment-

I woke, strapped to a bed, with Trey pinning me by
straddling on my chest. Somehow his face
conveyed everything without saying a word. I felt something brushing my
thoughts, and I was connected to him again- but this was like a live wire
shocking through me. His emotions and fears were just as loud as the sensations
he experienced; he saw it. He saw it all. Hilary brought him to where I’d be-
she KNEW it was coming but had to let it happen. He found me, upside down in my
plane; melted to my seat as the fire raged out of control. He saw me screaming,
awake but witless, and braved the flames to and cut me down.